Fame and fortune, slander and shame, hatred and humiliation, “power” and pusillanimity, broadcasting and brainwashing, repetition and repercussions. Those things, and much more, make mankind, well, mankind. Balance brings both sides of everything, except almighty authority. There’s no we in him, right? If the most excellent ethereal entity exists, who can check him? And is it fair for the forever formidable Father to force his fate-forming, future-fixing fingers into the whole world’s you-know-what? Y’all, I know invaluable information that people pay a pretty penny to procure, for a full fuckin’ fact, and it’s about to make my monumental movement much more massive! Which queues the query, who can check me? Words won’t win this war of wits, weak-ass weirdos, only winning will. Anyhoo, I was swiping and scrolling on my totally taken-over timeline the other day, and I saw a recently released rapper reverting back to relentless retardation with loser, lowlife-like lyrics in his recently released music. Why is growth gross to grown-ass “gangsters?” Manhood may mean multiple things to many males, but growth can continue past pubescence through maintained mental maturity. Incarceration isn’t meant to make mindless motherfuckers more mindless, it’s a reflection and reformation retreat, in a sense. Missing mama’s meals, kids’ kindness, friends’ fun, “freedom’s” freeness, or what matters most for prolonged periods of time should make mindless motherfuckers change their motherfucking minds about being mindless. You’re an inimical individual and an injurious influence, sir. Please stop self-harming and proudly popularizing it. Why waste more time trying to impress impressionable people who live life like living lies long enough makes fiction fact? What makes you “real,” bruh? Do you see sustained stupidity as stick-to-itiveness? Does circumventing change mean you’re still the same, and is staying stuck the same something you’re permanently proud of? Raj, you’re afraid of being ashamed, scared of seeing shit straight, fearful of facing friends-turned-foes, terrified of telling the truth, and making matters much more meaningless. Change can’t come from continued cycles, and change in a care-crippling, concern-cauterizing culture can cure it! Fuck these punk-ass, pussy-ass, petty-ass, puerile-ass people, Surf! Who is a nonsensical nigga to tell you who you’re supposed to be? Man… niggas can’t even express emotion or say something silly without worrying about mindless motherfuckers hurling homophobic harangues, which prompts “pauses” perpetually. Then, super sensitivity makes many mindless males deathly defensive in sticky situations that they create by being super sensitive. Black males are a big bunch of brainless bitches! Fuck all y’all. I don’t know about you, Surf, but I say whatever the fuck I want. Nevertheless, I’m normally nice. Fussing, fighting, and worrying about the wrong things just ain’t my things. I’ve always tried to be better than what we all can concur are bitch-ass niggas, Surf. And it’s been hella hard, like a down-low dude’s dick in the shower as soap slowly slides down the crack of his cellmate’s abundant ass. Corniness can cause cringing, or it can change cold-heartedness to something smarter. A clearer conscience, and closer consciousness, can change where your confidence comes from, Surf. I’m not religious, I just know write from wrong. Don’t live a long life of lies, Raj. And there’s much more to life than the things that may matter most to you before changing. You must move on, bruh! All that blood, sweat, and tears, for years, just to keep bleeding, dying, and crying? Again, it’s going to be hella hard, like a down-low dude’s dick as his chubby cellmate slowly slurps soupy ramen while licking his luscious lips to catch the noodle juices. But you’re hard as hell, like LL Cool J, who loves licking his luscious lips as if they’re constantly coved with noodle juices, right? Niggas is bitches, Surf, and they’re nobody to impress. Fuck ’em! I bet you won’t call it quits with the Crips. You’re big on brotherhood, huh? Have you ever noticed how pals who play “pause” primarily prefer penis-packing partners over fine females? That shit never made sense to me. If I’m “outside,” as a grown-ass man, it better be a bunch of bitches around instead “a big bunch of brainless bitches.” Your Honor, I like taking my time, like a persuasive prisoner patiently grooming gullible guys into gayness. But soon…
Omniscience